


Duty

by Merlinites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sex, Sexy Times, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlinites/pseuds/Merlinites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It is your duty to serve me in any way I ask, yes?” Arthur asked, heart beating in his chest at a speed sure to cause damage. </p>
<p>Merlin nodded, although slightly warily. “Yes, sire.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty

You couldn’t _glance_ at Arthur Pendragon, it just wasn’t possible. He filled a whole room with his presence, and your eyes couldn’t just stop on him, only to move onto something else. Because your eyes simply _stopped_ , period, on Arthur, and you’d be lucky to escape with them still attached to your head. Or perhaps it was only Merlin who felt this way. That Arthur was the centrepiece in every room, the centre to your orbit, the sun and the moon and the stars in your sky, the very reason you were at any given place at any given time. Perhaps more than just Merlin felt this way, but these feelings caused a physical _ache_ in Merlin’s chest, and he found them pounding away at his heart as if he were supposed to give up some precious gems that were hidden inside. But the only precious gem and hidden thing inside his heart was Arthur, so the pounding at his heart was fruitless because he _knew_. He knew that Arthur was everything to him, and that he meant less than nothing to Arthur. He knew that Arthur never thought these things of Merlin, and that Merlin would never touch Arthur’s skin with his fingertips or cry his name to the rooftops or kiss every inch of Arthur’s body, no matter how much he wanted to. It just wasn’t going to happen. Because Merlin was Merlin, and Arthur was, well, Arthur was _Arthur_.

 

Arthur sometimes felt like he was on stage when Merlin was near him. He would feel those burning blue eyes on him, and he felt this all consuming _desire_ to please him. He didn’t know when it had started, but when he noticed his servant’s eyes upon him, he wanted to do something worthy of their gaze. He wanted to slay dragons, and save damsels (Merlin) in distress. He wanted to wear a badge of honour and nobility and grace and everything that he hoped Merlin wanted and saw when his eyes fell on Arthur. All Arthur wanted was for Merlin to like what those pools of crystal blue found when they fell upon their king. He wanted Merlin to be filled up with content at what he saw in Arthur. He wanted Merlin to be proud of who Arthur had become. He wanted Merlin, period. He wanted Merlin, and nothing more than Merlin. But he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Because Arthur was Arthur, and Merlin was, well, _Merlin_.

 

Merlin woke with a gasp of Arthur’s names on his lips, and sweat dripping from his brow, and a certain body part extremely _alive_. He had dreamed again. Of being with Arthur in the way that he was only allowed to dream of. Of being at Arthur’s mercy, and Arthur being at _his_ mercy, and them being at the mercy of each other. Of being together. In every way possible. Merlin covered his mouth so his muffled cries of _Arthur!_ could not be heard as he tended to his certain body part.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur cried, awakened by his own cry. A blush crept across his cheeks as he recalled his dream. As he recalled the feeling of Merlin’s lips on his lips, on his shoulder, his stomach, his hip, his … He shivered as he imagined the _real_ Merlin, and not just the figment of his imagination, reducing him to the quivering mess he had been in his dream, and every inch of him was filled with longing. With desire. He felt he would go insane without Merlin.

 

Arthur chewed on his breakfast, abnormally silent, and Merlin gnawed on his lip, drawing upon the dream in which he had been bent over that very dining table.

“Stop gnawing your lip, Merlin. It makes you look like an idiot.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, the spell woven by his imagination completely undone. Well, not completely. But mostly.

Dark blue eyes under blonde hair scrutinised Merlin, making him nervous and wary and curious all at the same time. When Arthur looked at him such it never ended well.

“Did you hear me call for you last night?” Arthur asked, seemingly absentmindedly.

Merlin’s cheeks flushed. He had, in fact, heard Arthur calling for him the dark of the night but he had been … preoccupied. “No, my lord. I did not.”

Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes. “If you hear me calling your name, or even _think_ you hear me calling your name, do come. You are my servant, even if you don’t act like it.”

Merlin nodded, attempting to look chastised, and felt the heat of Arthur’s gaze on him as he did so.

 

Arthur woke again that night with Merlin’s name crying from his lips, only this time his servant appeared in his chambers within moments. Arthur took in the dishevelled appearance of his servant, and he felt the glowing embers of desire that his dream had ignited flare to life once again.

“Yes, my lord?” Merlin asked behind a slender hand covering a yawn.

“It is your duty to serve me in any way I ask, yes?” Arthur asked, heart beating in his chest at a speed sure to cause damage.

Merlin nodded, although slightly warily. “Yes, sire.”

“And if I asked you to serve me with your lips, what would you do?”

The most beautiful of reds splashed across Merlin’s cheeks and Arthur revelled in it.

“I would … I would start with your lips.”

Arthur sunk lower into his bed, his hand reaching between his legs. “And then?”

“And then I would move across to your shoulder, down between your ribs, across to your hips.”

A stroke of his fingers. “More,” he gasped, eyes closed.

“I would let my lips trail over _you_ whilst my hands held your hips in place. I would take you in my mouth and move until I had you trembling under my hands and lips, until you were incapable of any kind of thought except my name. Which I would make you cry out again. And again.”

Arthur opened his eyes, hand still stroking, to look at Merlin. That beautiful red was still sprawled across his cheeks, and he was leaning against the wall, breathing hard. His hand was trailing next to his leg, twitching as if he wanted to move it. All of this just brought Arthur closer to his edge.

 

Watching Arthur watching him wanting Arthur was excruciating. Merlin wanted to lie down in that bed with Arthur and actually _do_ the things he was talking about. And if he couldn’t do that, then he at least wanted to pleasure himself to get rid of this burning feeling racing through his body.

“What would you do when I came apart under you?” Arthur asked, and Merlin was nearly undone by the words.

“I would ask you to do whatever you wanted to do to me.”

Arthur’s eyes blazed and Merlin could see his hand move faster under the bedclothes. “I want you to come here,” Arthur commanded, and Merlin obeyed. “Take off your clothes.”

Merlin stripped bare in moments. He felt Arthur’s eyes on him, and he saw them linger on that certain part of his body that was standing to attention. Arthur flipped back the bedclothes, and it was Merlin’s turn to stare at the body before him.

“Get in and lie on your stomach.” Needless to say, Merlin did as he asked. “When you want to cry my name,” Arthur continued. “Cry it so the whole world can hear you.”

And then, without any kind of preamble, Arthur was moving against him. Merlin wanted to cry out Arthur’s name at first contact, so he did. He cried Arthur’s name so the whole world could hear it. He cried it several times that night.


End file.
